The Name's the Thing
by Judes
Summary: After three years of sharing Gull Cottage, Carolyn Muir decides it is time to be on a first-name basis with Captain Daniel Gregg.


The Name's the Thing

Judy Moore

"Carolyn, dear, are you sure you're all right under there? Carolyn?" the woman asked and smiled cheerily. Under the hair dryer, Mrs. Muir couldn't hear a thing and her concentration was so focused on a magazine article, she didn't realize her stylist was standing in front of her.

Finally, the high-heeled woman shut the humming dryer off to gain her client's attention. "Hon', if that magazine's got you glued to it, it must be good! Remind me to read what you're reading when I'm finished with you," she laughed.

Carolyn grinned back at her and chuckled. "I'm sorry, Gail, I was just a little too absorbed. I'm back now."

"Happens all the time, dear. Must have been interesting reading. Anything I should know about?"

"Not really." Then Carolyn thought a moment, changing her mind. "Well, yes, I'd like your opinion actually," she asked as they moved back to Gail's station for the comb out.

"Sure, hon', go ahead," Gail urged, putting a fresh towel around Carolyn's shoulders.

"Well, I was just reading about people giving up what little formality we have left to address each other on a first name basis. Teachers… preachers… you name it."

"Oh, yeah, hon'. Haven't you heard? It's the latest!"

"I guess it is!" Carolyn agreed. "The article said businesses are trying out the idea and it seems to be taking off and spreading, even some schools are letting students call their teachers by their first names. I guess it is the 'in' thing now. Anything goes!" She smiled.

"Completely, Carolyn. Why, here at the salon we sort of mix and match names already. Some of our older gals insist on being 'Mrs. So and So's', but some don't. Just depends on how they feel about it. To tell you the truth, Carolyn, there are a few women here whose first names I don't want to know. Don't want to get that friendly, if you know what I mean," Gail said as she tested the dryness of Carolyn's hair. "But, you and me, we're good friends, hon', so it's no problem. But these days, can you imagine anyone calling me 'Mrs. Maxfield' or you, 'Mrs. Muir'?"

"Yes, imagine." Carolyn slumped a little in her chair.

"It's absurd, really," Gail continued, "People need to get with it, it's the 'Now Generation' growing up. We need to be closer, but more casual in our relationships. You know what I mean, don't you?" Gail asked, as she put Carolyn's last curler in the bin and started teasing away with her rat-tail comb. Throughout the ritual, Carolyn nodded dutifully, wondering if she fully understood her friend's line of unusual thinking.

"We need more freedom of expression," the redhead proposed. "How else are we going to find ourselves?"

"I didn't think I was lost," Carolyn added with a grin.

"Of course you are, we all are, dear. Why, Mike and me, we visit a psychoanalyst once a month," she said proudly.

"You do?" Carolyn cringed, remembering her brief stint with a shrink. She had hated the affair and never wanted to be talked into anything crazy like that again. "I thought you and Mike were happy," Carolyn added.

"Oh, we are, hon'. Don't get me wrong, and for heaven's sake, don't look so surprised. We go to keep our relationship from getting stale. Lots of couples are going to shrinks these days. Ours is a group session, sort of like being in a big think tank where couples throw out ideas. We all go home, try them out and report our findings."

"Really?" Carolyn was intrigued.

"It's a shame you can't join us, dear, because, well, you know, you're single. But at least take my advice, hon'. Live a little, try something new, you never know what'll happen."

Carolyn rather liked the idea of trying something new and smiled, "I might just do that, Gail."

"Fantastic. Just remember what I said, Carolyn, if Mike and I can do it, you can, too." Gail put her comb down and lavished coat of hair spray on Carolyn's coif for the finishing touch.

Pleased with the result as always, Carolyn smiled to herself in the mirror. After looking at her watch, she realized she'd been at the salon for nearly an hour-and-a-half. Quickly, she wrote a check to her friend for the usual amount and with it, plopped the tattered magazine she'd been holding into Gail's hand.

"I've bent the corner down on the article I was reading, sorry it's not as saucy as you might like," Carolyn laughed.

"Thanks for the check, hon', next time I'll bring you a sample of my reading," Gail grinned.

"Oh! I'll look forward to it!" Carolyn added politely. Then, after swapping hugs, the ladies promised to call one another, though both knew they wouldn't, and bade each other goodbye until the next time.

Finally outside and away from the pungent smell of perms and lacquer, Carolyn slid into her station wagon for the journey home. Not only would she arrive back at Gull Cottage with a new and sassy hairstyle, which she knew would bring some form of comment from the Captain, but she was bringing home the inklings of a new and radical idea.

On the drive home from Boston, Carolyn used the time to think and reason out calmly why the time was right for her and the Captain to start to calling each other by their first names. After all, they'd been together almost three years and she speculated many times before this that they should be on more familiar terms, even if only by name.

As it stood, she was the last person in her immediate circle of friends and family who was still called 'Mrs. Muir' by the stoic sea captain and she had had quite enough of his nineteenth century propriety. The time was right to break loose.

Carolyn reckoned she and Captain Gregg should move ahead in their relationship. Maybe it wouldn't be as quick as she would like, but they should at least make the effort to begin. After all, they weren't living in the eighteen-seventies anymore, they were living in the nineteen-seventies, and in the here and now, and nearly all fussiness she'd grown up with had begun to be left by the wayside.

This wasn't the first time Carolyn felt she was falling behind the norm, and indeed, feeling a bit prehistoric in her attitudes. She was beginning to think that living out on the isolated cliffs, away from town and society, might not have been such a good idea after all, especially for Jonathan and Candy. But they were happy, vibrant children; weren't they? She smiled thinking of them.

Carolyn then wondered why she was the only remaining recipient of Captain Gregg's formality with names. As long as she could remember, the seaman had always called Claymore by his given name, as he also did with the children, and of course, her housekeeper was 'Martha' to him, not 'Miss Grant.' So why was she tagged as 'Mrs. Muir' then, or 'Madam', never simply 'Carolyn'? A wave of chills suddenly erupted at the thought of the Captain whispering her name.

How nice it would be to hear her name come from his lips. When he spoke, she couldn't help but be thrilled at the virility of his husky tones, which, she shamefully admitted to herself, she adored. Then, sighing deeply from the day-dream, she pulled off the expressway and directed her car toward Schooner Bay.

Passing the town welcome sign, she drew into her memories and recalled sweetly the only instance she remembered the Captain actually saying her name to her; the night her parents renewed their wedding vows at the restaurant. Her knees had nearly buckled then, when the gallantly uniformed seaman expressed his love for her in a way she'd not expected. Unfortunately, and inexplicably, not since then had he addressed her as warmly, as perhaps he should be doing. Though she had to admit that if the Captain ever did call her Carolyn again, she would probably faint dead away from the shock. Maybe it was better this way…

Maybe not.

However, even living in Schooner Bay, where she was alive and well and making a decent living these days, Carolyn surmised that the current times, not the olden times, dictated what was socially acceptable now; what was in was in, and what was out, was definitely out. This hopeless feeling she had of lagging behind the times, not because of the name issue, but perhaps because of her ties to the Captain, nagged at Carolyn more than she would like, often to the point of frustration. Yet, as much as she tried to justify a life-changing move of any kind, she couldn't think of anywhere else her heart would rather be than at Gull Cottage.

So far, during her and the Captain's tenure together, 'names' were an issue they'd never openly discussed, keeping the topic hidden as if it were an unquestionable rule by which they must accept the monikers they began with. Perhaps subconsciously, this unspoken agreement between them helped to keep their relationship intact, making a safe haven for everyone concerned. But was it too safe? Carolyn wondered. She was also acutely aware that she and the Captain were at the risk of becoming stale, as her friend Gail and her husband Mike might have become but for the shrink parties they attended. Carolyn dreaded this staleness happening to her and her motivation to remedy the situation was increasing rapidly. Of course, since group therapy was definitely out of the question for her and the Captain due to his ethereal state, which to this day Carolyn was very unsure about, she had to find another way to inject freshness into their relationship and soon. Maybe, just maybe, the freedom of using one another's names would do the trick. Or would it cause chaos?

_Blast it all,_ Carolyn thought as she drove past a line of old ginko trees. Until she'd read the article at the salon that morning, she'd had a reasonably good attitude about the name thing. She hadn't really been bothered by the fact that everyone who knew Captain Gregg always referred to him as 'the Captain.' Supposedly, he preferred to be called 'Captain' or wouldn't he have said otherwise? And yes, she knew the spirit in her house did have a name, and it was a wonderful name… Daniel. Carolyn laughingly speculated that no one dared to call him anything other than Captain for fear of receiving the seaman's fierce retribution. Surely, anyone bold enough to do the unspeakable had to be prepared to walk the plank, or worse, fall prey to one of his cold and beady stares. Carolyn smiled again. That in itself was unsettling enough to frighten anyone who didn't know him as well as she did. He wouldn't hurt a fly. Most of the time, he was all wind and no weather! Well, he was like that while she was around anyway.

Still, she knew the distinctive rank of Captain seemed an acutely natural one for her ghost, as the handsome specter seemed to encompass the title so readily and completely. He had earned his position during his living years and was one of the fortunate who continued to not only upholding his station with dignity in the afterlife, but looked damn good doing it, too!

Also, in all the years Carolyn had known the sea-rake, she had never considered calling him anything other than Captain, because the title had a certain melodious and romantic ring to it that she liked and actually preferred. Yet, sometimes over the years, Carolyn had been surprised when the Captain had not suggested she address him differently. They'd had a few special and splendid moments when the time seemed right for them to become more intimate with names. But he had said nothing. And Carolyn, knowing there wasn't any hope to debate the issue, didn't pursue the matter. In the end, she supposed she was thankful the lines between them were delineated in such a safe and clever way. That is… until today.

While pulling in and cruising through town, Carolyn searched her conscience. She knew she was not afraid of the Captain, especially when confronted with his tempestuous blustering, which like her own, revealed itself time and again but always seemed to blow over. Chiding herself in the car, she wondered why it was she who had taken so long to broach the subject of names, especially now that they'd come this far along. Certainly it wasn't for a lack of courage, but perhaps leaving things as they were was just easier and therefore less likely to cause waves between them.

But there were those moments again, sometimes scathingly intimate moments slipping back into her mind. Those moments when she had imagined calling him Daniel, simply to hear the lyrical notes of his name from her own lips, or to watch how the sound of her voice fell upon his face. Would he smile? Would he grimace? Would she melt if he answered back with her name?

Blast! What kept her from saying his name? What stopped her? She couldn't put a finger on the answer, but Carolyn did have the faith that one day, the time would come to call him Daniel. She knew this, as much as she knew that she'd fallen in love with him the moment she saw him. Yet, how far away the future seemed. Much too far away to think about. Ripping the steering wheel with determined white knuckles, Carolyn decided she wanted a change in their lives. And the change would take place that day.

In the same vein of apprehension as Carolyn, she figured the Captain Gregg was very aware of the name issue, too. From the very start, he never asked her how he should address members of her family. On his own, the seaman chose to be on a first name basis with everyone but her. Quite on purpose, he had done exactly as he wanted and never wavered from his course.

Originally, Carolyn had enjoyed Captain Gregg's formality, for she was mistress of the household and this gave her a certain level of equality. But, she also had a beautiful name and missed hearing it, especially from another adult. With everyone calling her 'Mrs. Muir,' or 'Mom,' it wasn't too often that she heard herself being called Carolyn, and she now realized this was indeed something she wanted and needed to hear.

Smiling to herself as she pulled up in front of the house, Carolyn's decision to take the advice of her friend Gail and live a little exhilarated her. Why not? What did she have to lose? She would finally take the big step and… blast it all… throw all caution to the wind! Once Carolyn made her choice in the car, she had become excited at the prospect of something new and daring. Without delay, she quickly concocted a plan in her mind, deciding that in the evening, she would propose to Captain Gregg that they should begin calling each other Carolyn and Daniel. Hopefully, this long overdue gesture would endear him to her more and help the two of them with all the catching up they had to do. Carolyn couldn't wait! She shut the engine off and got out of the car.

By the time her feet touched the ground, Carolyn was sighing. Suppose her plan didn't work? What would she do then? Feeling a horrible ache in her heart, she glanced up at the balcony toward the ship's wheel, the symbol of her man of the sea. How precious her and the Captain's time had been together, and she was thankful for every minute, yet, she really did need to hear her name. She needed to respond to the sound of it again, to become alive, to be significant and matter again. Most of all, she needed to hear it from him, the man, who at that very moment, was most likely peering at her from the telescope in her room; very glad and relieved she was home safe and that the day's news would be shared. She prayed a silent prayer this name exchange would happen between them. It must, for if the Captain chose not to oblige, she was afraid her life at Gull Cottage would never be the same.

XXX

That evening after dinner, with a simply plotted course in her mind, Carolyn snuggled into her jacket and started out for a walk on the beach while Candy and Jonathan did their homework. Once down below, the wind from the sea teased and flounced her newly coifed hair, but she didn't care, her mood was wide open and carefree. And as she'd predicted, shortly into her walk, from inside her head she heard Captain Gregg's voice asking if he could join her.

"Hello, Captain!" she greeted him as he appeared by her side.

"Good evening, Mrs. Muir, what brings you out here to the beach?"

"You do," she smiled as her heart flipped at his greeting.

"I? How so?" he asked curiously.

"Well… I have something… delicate that I want to discuss with you," she managed to say.

The Captain raised his chin knowing full well she'd been expecting him, "So, Madam, you came out here assuming I'd follow, which, I'm ashamed to say I have. Cheeky on your part, though I see that in the future I shall have to be more… unassuming."

"Mm-hmm, I'd say so," she answered, her smile beaming in the clouded moonlight. The Captain then glanced up at Gull Cottage.

"I take it extreme privacy is in order for this evening's discussion or you wouldn't have distanced yourself from the warmth of the hearth."

"You could say that," she looked down, filling a sand hole with her foot. "This is something I want to discuss strictly between you and me."

"Sounds serious." The Captain stopped abruptly wondering what exactly she was up to. She didn't seem upset. On the contrary, he was happy to see her exuding this vibrant playfulness. He adored her this way. "Would you rather we sit or continue walking, Madam?"

Carolyn shook her head, brushing strands of hair from her face. "I'd like to walk if you don't mind."

"Ready whenever you are, my dear."

"Right!" They started off toward Tern Rock.

The Captain waited for her to begin. He was anxious to know if the issue at hand concerned him. He had a fairly good idea that it did. The two strolled only a bit before Carolyn stopped abruptly. She hadn't meant to stop walking so soon, but she wanted to pour out her idea making sure she looked the Captain in the eye when she did. With her hands in her pockets, she again nervously began to scribble in the sand with her foot. She felt a sudden twinge of cold feet as the Captain waited patiently for her to speak. He cut into her thoughts.

"Ahoy, Madam, are you there?" he asked softly.

Yielding to the importance of the issue they were about to face, Carolyn finally gritted her teeth and spoke frankly.

"Yes! Yes, I am here, Captain… and so are you," she looked directly into his eyes.

"I am glad that is cleared up," he smiled, "So here we are, just the two of us. Go on…"

"Right, well, Captain…" Carolyn realized this was going to be harder than she thought, "I think you and I… no… I know you and I… we need to move forward… from where we are." After she said this, she held her breath waiting for a reaction from him, her gaze as steady as the rocks nearby.

"Forward, Mrs. Muir? Forward from where? From here? This spot?" The seaman pointed to the sand teasing her, "You're the one that stopped."

He searched her face unable to discern her intentions.

Blast! Carolyn had just begun and he was already trying to confuse the situation. "No! Not move forward from here! From where we stand!" She smiled incredulously, not believing he could be so thick.

"Exactly! That's what I said, where would you like to move? By the rock there?" He pointed to a boulder.

"Oh, you're just being difficult on purpose!" She put her hands on her hips, "I knew this was a crazy idea!"

"Crazy idea? If there is an idea in all of this I don't think I've heard it yet, Mrs. Muir."

"There!" Carolyn threw her hands up, "That's the reason we're out here!"

"What? What reason! Blast it, Madam," he chuckled, "If you don't pull me up soon, I'll drown! This is all quite befuddling, but I do know one thing… you have a lovely smile by moonlight, Mrs. Muir."

"There, you said it again!"

"What? What have I said? I'm sorry, I don't quite follow," said the puzzled Captain. The woman yanked her hands from her pockets, putting the heel of her palms to her forehead.

"Don't you see?" Carolyn's eyes brightened. "We need to move beyond the nineteenth-century into this century. My century. We need to get with it!"

"Get with what?" he chuckled at her excitement. "If I'm left to guess, I can think of a number of things to get on with, Madam. Believe me, you won't find a more willing partner," he teased, not knowing what the devil she was going on about.

Carolyn grinned wide at his jovial attitude, "All right. That's good, Captain. This is a start, a strange one, but a very good start."

"May I ask… what are we starting, my dear? I hope I'm dressed properly," he said, stretching his neck and pulling at the bottom of his blazer.

"Captain!" she rolled her eyes wanting him to listen. "Be serious!"

"Of course, Madam, I'm always serious. I've never been more serious," he added.

She gave up and cut to the point. "Captain! From now on…"

"Yes…" he lowered his chin, ready for anything.

"I want you to call me Carolyn," she blurted out, then added quickly, "Th-that is… if you'll let me call you Daniel." She waited as her toes tightened in her shoes. Then, from the ground up, a chill crept along her spine as silence pierced the air. The Captain's brows crinkled a bit, then below them, his blue eyes narrowed as she watched him digest her surprising offer.

Carolyn thought that either the beautiful night sky was going to open up with cracking thunder or there would be a reasonable acceptance of her request. Which would it be? Honestly, she didn't know what he would say, but wondered why he was taking so confoundedly long to respond. It wasn't as if she were asking for the moon. Was it?

"Well?" she begged. "Say something! You're making me nervous…"

His succinct voice broke into the sound of the waves startling her as the seaman spoke a bit more solemnly than she would have liked, "You are absolutely correct, Madam. This is a delicate issue. As I see it, you want me to address you with your given name and you wish to address me with mine."

"Yes! Wouldn't it be wonderful!" she said sincerely, with her hands clasped together. "We should have been using our names a long time ago, don't you think?"

"I think, Madam… that I am not ready to tell you what I think."

"What?" Carolyn asked, disturbed by his offbeat answer. She immediately sought out his eyes, which had glanced away for a moment, as if for a split second, he had great difficulty facing her. The seaman rubbed his beard and pushed his hands into his pockets and spoke.

"May I mull over the proposition properly, Madam? We don't want to rush into anything just yet."

Carolyn couldn't believe what she was hearing, that is, if she was reading him correctly. Inexplicably, he was hedging the issue! Now she was certain he was against the idea. This was not the response she wanted, nor expected, and her heart seemed to crush with the weight of a thousand hurts. How selfish he was being! Yet, she thought, this was a new proposition and maybe she expected a change too quickly? Hadn't Captain Gregg said he would think about the offer? After all, he hadn't exactly vetoed her suggestion, had he? Still, to her thinking it seemed the seaman was working really hard at flogging her idea. What game was he playing out here in the cold? She had to know.

"Rush into anything! Captain, we've lived together for three years! I think we know each other pretty well, don't you?"

"Yes, I think we do. More than most," he agreed, though she could see he was struggling in his corner and as always, a change of subject matter was his best defense. He put his hand out to feel the air.

"Since I do know you so well, Madam, I know you get frightfully cold very easily. This wind chill is nasty just now."

"You can say that again," Carolyn said under her breath.

Captain Gregg hunched his shoulders to the wind. "We must head back before you catch your death. Discussing the issue in compatible warmth seems like a much better idea." He raised his eyes to the darkened cliffs wishing they were back at Gull Cottage, back in the past before the last few minutes ever happened.

"Captain! You've avoided everything I've said! What about our names?! And I'm not c-cold!" She shivered.

"Ah! There! I told you!" He pointed to her shivering lips. "I know women, and I know you. Women always get cold at the slightest breeze. Shall we go and get you warm?"

Indeed, her lips were quivering, and would be considered a distinctive shade of blue if there were lighter than the evening's clouded moon could afford, but she was shivering more from the seaman's cold rebuff than from the chilly dropping temperature. And just what did Captain Gregg have to mull over she wanted to know? He either wanted to call her Carolyn or he didn't! How dare he spoil everything by pressing his male chauvinism on her idea? And blast it, she was not cold! If she was, it was her own problem, not his. In a huff, she buttoned her coat to the neck, all the while hating the stinging tears welling up behind her eyes.

"For your information, Captain, I wanted us out here because I believe in something! I believe in progress! It's something you have to have if you ever plan on getting anywhere in this world… or yours for that matter." Her lips quivered again.

"I don't understand. Where is it you want to go, Madam? Aren't I… I mean, isn't Gull Cottage enough? What's this all about? Why all of the sudden are you pressing the name issue?"

"Oh? So there is an issue! Blast it all, Captain! Don't you see? We're here, now, in my time. Everyone around here calls me Mrs. Muir, including you, and I hate it!" she revealed testily.

"Oh, I see…" said the Captain, finally understanding.

"I have a name, and it's Carolyn! Do you hear? Carolyn!"

"I know, Madam. No one knows better than I."

Carolyn's exuberance of a few moments ago had slithered into anger. Even more frustrating were the unwanted tears, which began to pool at the corners of her eyes. There in the darkness, a suddenly errant beam of moonlight made its way to her tears making them glisten just enough to catch the Captain's keen eye. However pained he was to see her like this, the stalwart spirit remained silent, his heart beginning to tie in a nautical knot.

"Why can't you say my name, Captain?" Carolyn cried out. "Or, it is that you won't?"

Captain Gregg stiffened, able to only give one answer, "I told you I would think about the prospect. And I will, if we ever get back."

"What is there to think about? What?" she asked again. "Are you afraid to be called Daniel?"

There! She said his name! Out loud even! How easy it was! Why couldn't he do the same for her? What was he afraid of? When he didn't respond again, she walked away from him, stopping only to kick a piece of driftwood. Watching it roll to a halt, she folded her arms from the cold and gazed at the sea. A reasonable thought then occurred to her. Carolyn marched right back, pointing a finger at the Captain's shadowy form.

"Of course! How could I be so stupid?" she then slapped her thighs. "You don't want me to use Daniel, because then you'd be demoted from the rank of Captain and that wouldn't suit you, would it? That's it, isn't it?" She then pointed to Gull Cottage, whose lights were on to welcome her back, when and if she decided to come home. "Oh-h-h boy!" She went on, "Just for a minute, one long minute, Captain, I'd forgotten that I live on a creaky old ship, not in a home!" He watched forlornly as all expression left her face, "I won't forget again."

That last remark hurt him. How could she say that? And the evening had started out so wonderfully too. Sighing to himself, the Captain again knew he must throw out a life raft quickly, before they both sank further into the abysmal deep without any hope of rescue. Tonight, he certainly didn't feel like sleeping out in the cold.

"Oh, this is pure nonsense, Madam. I don't give a flying jib what I'm called or by whom. I've been called much worse. So, call me whatever you like, whatever suits you, it doesn't matter to me one way or the other!"

"But it matters to me!" Carolyn crossed her arms tightly, "I wouldn't call you Daniel now, if you were the last… Daniel on earth! You don't deserve it!"

"Perhaps not, but please, Madam, we must get you home."

"Home? Back to the ship? As one of your crew… Captain Bly?"

"Crew? Crew be hanged! Madam, you know Gull Cottage is your home. Our home…" he stressed, trying to keep his cool.

"Hah! That'll be the day!" she cut him off. Now, she was shivering uncontrollably from the frigid sea air. He moved close to her.

"My dear, this is no good," he said softly over the sound of the rolling waves, "If you don't let me escort you home this minute, you shall walk home alone. I mean it."

He was bluffing, of course, but then out of true concern for her health, he did something he promised he'd never do again. Before she could say anything else or move further away from him, he deftly reached both hands around to her back and brought her jacket hood over her head to fend off the cold. His strong, ethereal hands lingered on the edge of her hood as he looked at her. He drew his fingers down near her chin to tie her hood strings in a neat bow.

Carolyn stood speechless as he held his hands near her face. Her troubling chills doubled their duty, running rampant from her head to her toes as her anger was temporarily forgotten.

The last time Captain Gregg had related to her in this manner was a few months after they'd first met, when he had given her Vanessa's antique shawl disguised as a rather flimsy but beautiful white flag. In the parlor, he had wrapped the Victorian fabric gently around her shoulders, and when he did, she swore she had felt his touch. Neither had mentioned the event since then, but she distinctly remembered the chill factor. Then, in the passage of time, that glorious feeling of those few moments had almost been forgotten… until now. Here, in front of him, angry or not, no matter how hard she tried, she could not tear her gaze away from the Captain's face. Oh blast! She thought. He was handsome! And agitating! And frustrating! The most stubborn ghost she'd ever met! Why did she ever have to fall in love with him?

Suddenly, from behind a wall of unconsummated passion, common sense came flooding back in a raging river, ringing out loud and clear that she recognized these tactics from before. No way on this earth would she let him do this to her again! She would not let him use his charm to get out of a mess he had deliberately created. Yes, this mess was all his doing. Now, the wall, which stood between them, might never come down. Resolute in her anger, she stared at him, daring him to say anything. As she did, her throat unwittingly tightened. She would never get a sensible answer from the Captain regarding their names. Absolute and profound woman's intuition told her, that the seaman had made his decision about the use of their names a long time ago. To him, she would always be Mrs. Muir and he would always be the Captain. Her stomach felt like a hollow pit, but she summoned the courage to speak. His hands were still on her.

"You're afraid to use my name, aren't you?" She said dryly, her voice as steady as a ship on a windless sea. The wind whipped and whirled about them.

"Mrs. Muir… please… don't carry this too far… you'll only make the situation worse," Captain Gregg pleaded gently. As if it were the natural thing for any man to do, the Captain slowly moved his hands from her hood and placed them on her shoulders. Carolyn glanced down at his strong hands pressed against her jacket. Being so cold, she couldn't tell whether she felt his touch or not. It didn't matter now.

"You can't even say my name out loud, can you? And you won't… ever." Carolyn's voice finally broke, and despite her best efforts, tears ran down her cheek. She brushed the annoying wetness away and became defiant. "Look! Look, don't touch me!" Carolyn wriggled from his phantom grasp, then her hands flew to cover her mouth as she gasped, not believing what she'd just done. Never in a million years had she ever thought she'd tell the Captain not to touch her! But she hurt, and that was all she could think about as she stepped back a few paces. Captain Gregg, on the other hand, his faced pained with the uncertainty of what to do, let his hands drop to his side in defeat as he wondered how such a beautiful evening could turn into disaster so quickly.

Carolyn shoved her hands in her pockets, "Don't bother walking me back to the ship, Captain. I know the way." Carolyn turned away and started to walk, but the walk soon turned into a run, her form disappearing dangerously into the darkness.

"Madam, wait! Let me escort you…!" The Captain yelled for her to stop, but she didn't hear him. Or didn't want to. "Carolyn!" He tried again, but she kept on going. Blast it all! Blast that woman! He punched one angry hand into the other. Would she ever hear him again? Would she ever want to? Perhaps he'd just lost her forever. By the powers! Why was love so… so difficult?! He picked up a stone and cast it angrily as far as he could into the sea.

Carolyn ran up the front porch, but before slipping into the house, she wiped her eyes and straightened her hair and coat as best she could. Once back inside, she didn't know if the Captain had beat her home, but the dismal thought crossed her mind that he could stay out on the widow's walk all night for what she cared.

Relieved to be back in the warmth, she found Martha in the kitchen busily going through the newspaper. Carolyn knew that the discussion she had with the Captain down on the beach was private, but she desperately needed to talk to someone and get a second opinion about her dilemma. Who better to ask than her housekeeper, who had an opinion on everything? Carolyn peeled off her coat and hung it on a chair.

"Oh, there you are, Mrs. Muir, nice walk?" Martha asked without looking up.

"Martha, tell me something."

"Yes, Mrs. Muir?" Martha's old eyes widened when she finally glanced up at her friend. "My goodness, what happened to you? You look like something the dog dragged in!" Then she half whispered so the children wouldn't hear, "And you've been crying! Mrs. Muir, were you out there with that old bullfrog of a Captain again? Was he bothering you?"

Carolyn raised a cold finger to her lips, "Sshh! Martha, not so loud."

"I'm trying not to be," the older woman said, laying her coupons on the table. She peered at her employer over her bifocals, "Honestly, Mrs. Muir, why do you let him get to you like this? Handsome or not, I'll give the ruffian a mouthful if you like."

"No! No! That's not how it is at all." Carolyn pulled out a chair and sat down. "You don't understand, Martha. It's all my fault really, at least I think it is. That's why I need your help. I need your opinion." Carolyn knew Martha's advice could be faithfully trusted, unlike the last opinion she asked of a friend, an opinion, which wound up getting her into this mess in the first place. Right then, it wouldn't have taken much for Carolyn to strangle her friend at all.

"Well, all right, Mrs. Muir." Martha calmed down a bit, "As long as you're okay. Here, drink this coffee and warm your bones. You look frozen."

"I am actually, but… I'm okay," she assured her friend. Carolyn took a sip of the hot brew and closed her eyes, enjoying its warmth.

"That's better, dear. Now, I'm all ears."

"Right. " Carolyn started, but not very loudly. "Let's say, just for instance, that I asked you to call me Carolyn instead of Mrs. Muir. Would you have a problem with that?"

Martha thought for a moment, "Can't say that I would, Mrs. Muir, the matter's up to you. The hardest part would be trying to break an old habit." She chuckled, "But, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather call you Mrs. Muir."

Surprised that her housekeeper had the same feeling as Captain Gregg, Carolyn asked her why.

"That's easy. You're the lady of the house. I'm not. And, I suppose it's a matter of respect, which we don't get much of these days, especially from the younger generation. Respect, Mrs. Muir. It's been ingrained in me from birth. I can't help what's a part of me. That's how I see it. But, if you want me to call you Carolyn, that's fine too. I'll try my best, but if I slip now and again, you have to promise not to flog me," she chuckled in her gravelly voice.

"Martha! I wouldn't dream of doing that," Carolyn teased her housekeeper, "I'd do better and make you walk the plank!"

"Oh, swell!" Martha replied, though she did truly understand Carolyn's dilemma and the seriousness underlying their banter. In all her years of living, the older woman had managed to accumulate a passing degree of wisdom, which she often used to help settle the disputes of the lovelorn in her household. On occasion, even Captain Gregg had come to her for advice regarding women. One in particular. Now, it was Mrs. Muir's turn once again, and after seeing that Carolyn had been crying, Martha suspected immediately that Carolyn and the Captain had yet another unresolved clash of wills. And if her antennae were aimed in the right direction, Martha knew that this time they were bumping heads about using their first names. The idea seemed like a trivial thing really, but to those like Martha, who knew that the lovers didn't have much to cling to, anything in the line of their love was serious business indeed.

"I don't mean to pry, Mrs. Muir, but since you asked, I think I will." She tapped her pencil on the table. "I was right that this has something to do with Captain Gregg, doesn't it?"

"A little," said Carolyn, swallowing her last gulp of coffee, holding the cup for its radiant heat.

"I think more than a little," the housekeeper patted Carolyn's hand. "Give the Captain time, Mrs. Muir. He'll come around. Remember, he's from the same school I am. We're the generation left behind and change doesn't come easy."

"I know," Carolyn admitted softly.

"Believe me, one day, the Captain will say your name and you won't even notice because it won't matter anymore. It's funny how things become less important as time goes on. You'll see."

Carolyn's eyes widened upon hearing her friend's perceptive advice. "Maybe you're right, Martha." She set her cup down. "He did say he'd think about it. Maybe this doesn't mean as much as I think it does?" Carolyn wondered.

"Well, there you are. You need to be patient, dear." Martha patted her hand again. "At least now he knows how you feel. Now, you go up and clean that mascara off your face, you look like a raccoon!"

"I'll bet I do!" Carolyn stood. "And thanks."

"Any time… Mrs. Mui… er, Carolyn." Both women laughed knowing Martha would have a devil of a time remembering to call her Carolyn.

XXX

Later, Carolyn retreated to her room after seeing the kids off to bed. She didn't expect Captain Gregg to come see her any time soon. In fact, she didn't particularly want to speak to him either despite Martha's pep talk, for each time she thought of him, she remembered the scene on the beach and her anger smoldered. And knowing him as she did, he would likely give Gull Cottage a wide berth until the smoke cleared anyway, though sometimes, as in the past, his absences' had often rolled into days or even weeks! Yet, what did she care? The solution was simple enough, all he had to do was call her Carolyn and all would be forgiven. How difficult could that be? She slipped into bed with too much on her mind. Him.

In the shadows of that same evening, after Carolyn had gone to bed, Captain Gregg paced solemnly on the widow's-walk. He could have easily stowed himself in the wheelhouse for the night, but that was much too close to her room and to her lingering, fiery temper. Right now, he wanted to be as far away from Carolyn as possible, to let her stew a little, and, he confessed, to give himself a bit of space to think. He leaned into the corner of the old white railing and folded his arms. The very idea! Her demanding that he call her Carolyn! Only when he was appropriately good and ready would he ever do that. And certainly, he wasn't going to let a woman tell him what to do no matter what century he was in, especially concerning matters of affection! His!

And she wanted to call him Daniel! By the powers! What would she ask for next?! His socks? The Captain knew, that in their situation, they really hadn't anything tangible to give one another, except the occasional odd piece of attic junk or perhaps a smattering of conversation. But their names were special, privately unique and in his mind, wonderful gifts not yet ready to be given. Oh, they would be given one day, yes, but he was saving the occasion for when he knew the moment was right for both of them. Rather like the Madeira trysts they sought out in the afternoons. He reminisced of them with great fondness. Ah! How sweet those moments were, but perhaps they were never to be again due to his sensibilities. He casually glanced up at the tarnished weather vane tittering wildly in the growing wind, in some ways he was feeling sorry for it too. Like him, the little clipper couldn't decide which direction to go.

"I see we're both having the same difficulties," he said to the tiny ship as it squeaked on its spindle. As if in answer, the ship spun around completely and stopped, its arrow pointed directly at the heart of Gull Cottage.

"Oh, so you think you know better, my little friend? Well, we'll see about that!"

Yes, he knew better he was sure. When the time was right, their names would be given freely to each other and not upon demand as she would like! All these years, he had fiercely guarded his name, holding onto it as long as he could and had hoped Carolyn had enough sense to do the same. This was all too soon. Captain Gregg did acknowledge, however, that this want of trading this last intimacy seemed like a logical step in their relationship. He couldn't deny that he also wanted to move forward as she put it, but he knew they weren't ready. Or, he rubbed his beard in thought, was it that he was not ready? No. Carolyn's reaction earlier in the evening was elemental proof that they must wait. But how long? How long must he hold back the tide?

The Captain sighed and turned to the wind. If only it were possible to please her in this way, he'd do so in a minute, but he knew that for the moment, circumstances must stay as they are. Now, up there on the walk, he seemed too far from Carolyn, from her voice, from her smile, from her heart. He wanted to go to her and explain what he knew she wouldn't yet understand. But he must try. He at least owed her that, but his hands wouldn't let go of the rail.

Near morning though, on this night of self-imposed exile, the tide turned for the wandering spirit as Captain Gregg realized that the cold summit of the widow's-walk was no place for the warm heart of a man who loved a woman as deeply as he did Carolyn. The sea wind, relentless and aggressive through the night in its mission to get him below deck, had whipped and churned through his ectoplasm, finally sending him back down to her in the pallid dimness before dawn.

While she was still asleep, his spirit moved in smoothly, dropping anchor next to her bed.

"_Carolyn,"_ he said softly. _"It's Daniel." _In her slumber, the blonde woman smiled upon recognizing the seaman's voice.

"_Well, my dear. Here we are again. What shall we do?" _he asked, more to himself than her. Mrs. Muir moaned and turned to face him in the darkness.

"_My dear Carolyn," _he laughed softly, _"I regret the unpleasantness of last evening. You caught me with m'knickers down, and not many have done that," _he admitted, _"But what you haven't known all these years, is that in my heart I have always called you Carolyn. You are my Carolyn. Do you understand? This… this issue of names is not new to me, only to you."_

Carolyn sighed and moaned again, her head snuggling deeper into her pillow.

"_I want so much to do as you ask, my dear. If only I could. What I wouldn't give to hear my name spill softly from your lips, the way it was meant to be heard when two people are in love. And were it possible now, I would say yours joyously in return."_

Carolyn exhaled deeply and murmured, "Daniel."

Captain Gregg laughed heartily, thinking that the delicious sound he'd just heard was pure heaven. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes to savor the melody of her voice and sighed.

"_Oh, my dear, I am not without sensitivity to your needs, though tonight, I will give you this conciliatory thought."_ He leaned in close resting his hand near her hair.

_"When I whisper your name, Carolyn, as I have over and over in my mind, time and again, my throat always catches, as if I can't breathe and never will, unless I say your name aloud to you. But… I cannot allow myself to do it, even though I want to as much as you want me to. I can't… because… I am in love with you. I know this doesn't make sense to you now, but you must believe there is good reason behind this guardedness."_

Carolyn's brow furrowed as she moved her head side to side. The Captain used the lilt of his voice to ease her fitfulness.

"_My dear, let me try to help you understand. Surely, as we are, we must harbor something forbidden between us. Some… thing, however trivial it might be, that is real, yet untouchable. Perhaps it is a hope or a dream that we can hold onto until the last possible moment."_

Disturbed again, Carolyn shifted restlessly, but the Captain continued on for he had much to say to the woman he loved.

"_You and I, my dear Carolyn. Once we've crossed this last remaining bridge of intimacy, we shall have nowhere else to go, nothing more to bargain with in the end." _He leaned over her more, taking in the flutter of her black lashes, relishing the curve of her lips, listening to the whisper to her heart.

"_One day, my dear, the time will come when we will be Daniel and Carolyn. We will be together. I can promise you that. What I don't know is when that will be, but it's not now, not yet. We've a long while to go on our journey."_

Carolyn unexpectedly kicked her covers down to the foot of her bed as if she were about to get up. To calm her, the Captain gently brought her blankets back to her shoulders and waited until she was resting.

Satisfied with her peaceful state, but becoming increasingly disgusted with his own; he went to the French doors and peered angrily through the curtains at the endless sea. Suddenly, low rolling thunder sounded overhead as storm clouds brewed around his aching heart.

In a fury of the kind only he was able to conjure, he turned back to Carolyn, and with his fist in the air, nearly shouted to the rafters, his voice thundering.

"Blast it all! We will have our moment, you and I! I… we… have to believe it will be! Or how else will we live?" The storm in him demanded to be heard again, lightning pulsing in the distance and through his core.

"_And when that moment for us arrives, my dear, it will be our reward for having lived…" _He cried out as the lightning cracked again, sending shafts of light through the curtains, through him and about the room._ "And for having carried on our lives with the knowledge of what can never be! But it must, my darling! Surely it must!"_

Carolyn whimpered softly at the strength of his words.

The frustrated spirit suddenly became aware that his hand had found its way to the telescope and locked solidly on the shaft. Slowly peeling his fingers away, he moved back to her bed, drawing his face to Carolyn's until their lips were a breath apart. Carolyn sensed he was close, the rise and fall of her chest deepening, her breathing quick.

"_So you see, my darling, I will not call you Carolyn simply because you want me to, nor shall you call me Daniel, until we are both deserving of it. We must earn the privilege by being strong… strong enough to not want that which can never be!" His gaze fell to her lips. "But how can we not want it, my dear, when we are so much in love?"_ he said solemnly, putting a few inches of distance between them_. "I suppose in the end, knowing we cannot change what is, we must both be content to love one another as we are now, in the only way we can."_

Carolyn reached out hesitantly, her hand hovering near his face. The slight expression she offered, was one of happiness, as if she'd found what she'd been searching for. Wistfully, the seaman placed his hand on her cheek, poignantly imagining what he might be feeling underneath. To his dismay, his hand held only a strange, sinuous energy without any true substance, this inevitably immortal state keeping him from feeling the warmth of his angel's face. Despite this disadvantage, he smiled.

"_Oh, my dear, we do have a lot to learn, but luckily for both of us… we have all eternity in which to do it."_

As quickly as the squall came in overhead, it blew away, the last of the thunder rolling gently out to sea.

_"For the moment, let's have no more talk of names, let's forget this unpleasantness, shall we? Sleep now, and pleasant dreams, my darling Carolyn."_ He brought his hand down from her face and straightened slowly; pausing to take a last glance at the vision he called his own, before he floated toward the telescope and vanished in the shadows of dawn.

XXX

A couple of hours later, Martha yelled upstairs to Carolyn, "Carolyn! Do you want oatmeal? Or would you prefer Cream of Wheat?"

Still in her robe, the lady of the house appeared quickly at the top of the stairs and leaned over the banister, "What did you say, Martha?"

"I asked if you wanted oatmeal or Cream of Wheat, or would you prefer I make eggs for breakfast?"

"No, no! Before that!"

"What?"

"You called me Carolyn!"

"Well, yes! I thought that's what you wanted." When Carolyn gave Martha a puzzled look, the older woman suspected something had happened between yesterday's little talk and this morning. "I see, so we're back to Mrs. Muir, are we?"

"What?!"

"Oh," she crinkled her caterpillar brows, "And I was just getting the hang of it, but frankly, Mrs. Muir, I couldn't be more relieved." She wiped her hands on her apron, "I've got enough to think about without the fear of being thrown overboard. So, what'll it be? Hot cereal or eggs?"

Carolyn didn't quite understand what Martha was talking about, and could only smile. "Eggs, eggs will be fine."

"Comin' right up!" Martha said, turning back into the kitchen. Just then, the Captain appeared beside Carolyn.

"Captain," she asked, "Do you know what's going…?" The seaman quickly stopped her from speaking by putting a finger to her lips.

"And Martha!" he caught the housekeeper just before the last flick of her apron rounded the corner.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Don't forget!" he ordered still looking into Carolyn's green eyes. "Make those eggs sunny-side-up… to match Mrs. Muir's smile."

"Aye-aye!" she answered with a salute and disappeared.

"And Mrs. Muir..." the Captain purred, losing himself in Carolyn's new hairstyle.

"Yes?" Carolyn asked.

"The hair, it's a bit of all right" he commented, "Rather..."

"Sexy?" She finished for him, brushing back a strand dangling over one eye.

"Mmm…" he hummed.

"The kind of hair… you could get lost in, perhaps?" she asked coyly.

"I would die trying."

"Oh, you would, would you? I hate to tell you this Captain… but you're already dead."

"My grievous misfortune."

Carolyn then flounced her hair and smiled, "And… if you must know, this style is called Seductress."

"Seductress! You don't say!"

"I do say, and it's all the rage," she said proudly. "Uh… but of course, it's no insinuation of character by any means," she added hastily.

"Of course not, Mrs. Muir." He then gifted her with an engaging smile that made her heart leap. "After all my dear, as my acquaintance Shakespeare once said… what's in a name?"

End


End file.
